


The sweetness of imperfect cake

by deadcellredux



Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Community: fanfic_bakeoff, M/M, empath kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/pseuds/deadcellredux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An aura of desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The sweetness of imperfect cake

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was "delicate".

Hisoka's kisses are nearly as delicate as the lingering taste of cake in Tsuzuki's mouth, subtle hints of cinnamon and tea. Hisoka straddles Tsuzuki's lap on the couch-- a sudden idea-- _impulse_ , really-- fueled by awkward confidence and urgent _want._

Tsuzuki tenses, tells himself _don't think_ when he feels the press of Hisoka's body-- Tsuzuki has resolved to be careful, to avoid physical contact with Hisoka; the difficulty of this makes itself clear in the hideous longing that gnaws constantly-- _painfully_ \-- in Tsuzuki's chest.

"Idiot," Hisoka murmurs against Tsuzuki's mouth, in his signature brand of affectionate snark. "I'm fine. Don't talk--" he adds, as Tsuzuki takes a breath to do _exactly that_ \-- but Tsuzuki listens; instead his tongue teases its way back into Hisoka's mouth.

Hisoka feels the aura of desire emanating from Tsuzuki, warming with increasing intensity; it shivers brilliantly, pleasure akin to the delicious trailing of fingertips down a spine-- and then _that's_ happening, too, because Tsuzuki's hands are beneath Hisoka's shirt, fire against his back.

Another surge slides against Hisoka's consciousness, and Hisoka can't help but receive, moaning soft and breathless against Tsuzuki's mouth.

"Asato--"

Tsuzuki starts, focuses on Hisoka’s closed eyes in front of him, wonders if perhaps this is too much, already feels a sickening guilt--

"I'm sorry I burnt it," Hisoka breathes, and he's talking about the cake he made-- _just because_ \--for Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki runs his thumb over Hisoka's lower lip, moved by the self-conscious honesty of the statement.

It's rare that Hisoka shows vulnerability-- let alone over supposedly burnt cake.

"Was awesome anyway," Tsuzuki says, truthful and relieved.

"I wouldn't know," Hisoka says, half-smiling. His breath catches on a moan as Tsuzuki kisses a soft trail from his ear down to his collarbone. "You didn't save a piece for me."


End file.
